


the long game

by tangentiallly



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23567035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangentiallly/pseuds/tangentiallly
Summary: in which bertrand has a plan (and it's probably working)
Relationships: Frank Denouement/Bertrand Baudelaire
Kudos: 9





	the long game

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i don't own asoue

For reasons he couldn’t articulate even to himself, it’s becoming increasingly irritating to Frank, the way Bertrand’s constantly trying to help with things. It’s a nice gesture, of course, and Bertrand’s competent, certainly, but - somehow it annoyed Frank, even if he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

Frank was sure his brothers or Beatrice would just think this was because he was a very micromanaging person who wanted to do every single thing himself, but he knew they were wrong. He delegated tasks to concierges, he’s not _micromanaging_ , as much as Beatrice liked to make fun of him about it.

“You feel threatened that someone else can be as competent and serious about work and not mess around,” Ernest remarked. “My fault, really, for being the horrible student I always have been and letting you get into that mindset.”

 _That’s not it_ , Frank thought. _Or is it?_ “Shut up.”

Ernest cackled, and Frank could still hear his faint laughter after Ernest left and the office door closed again.

* * *

It was a couple of days later that he found himself asking, “Why are you trying to be _useful_ all the time?” It wasn’t until the word “useful” slipped out his mouth that he felt the wheels in his head start to turn, to start solving this question that has been bothering him. _Was it Bertrand’s way to guarantee himself to be liked? To be useful to everyone? Was this some long term agenda, or was it more sad, really, and why was this bothering him, anyway? Because he didn’t like to be part of someone’s agenda, to be just like everyone else to him, to be just another person to please? Okay, that sounded wrong. Why would he care about that? Where did that even come from, he had no idea._ “I don’t need you to - to _please_ me.”

Bertrand raised an eyebrow. “You ‘don’t need’ - because you think there’s no pleasing you?” He asked drily. Faintly amused.

Frank blinked, suddenly taken aback. This was, granted, not the kind of comeback he was expecting, not from someone who he was just moments ago categorizing as one to please people. “ _What?_ ”

“I just thought you must’ve had a lot of work to do - organization work plus the hotel work, and all that. But if I’m overstepping the boundaries, just let me know.”

Frank frowned. “I can handle my work, thank you for your concerns.” He said curtly. He considered a bit, and decided to go forth with what he wanted to say anyway. “And sometimes you make me wonder if you have some underlying agenda.”

“Oh, that’s fair,” Bertrand said easily. “Because I do.”

Frank narrowed his eyes at him. “Which is?”

“A secret,” came the prompt answer, just the barest hint of apologetic.

Frank didn’t trust that. “I’ll find out,” he said coolly.

“Perhaps you will,” Bertrand agreed.

Frank _absolutely_ did not trust that. He supposed he would just have to keep Bertrand closer around to find out. Keep your friends close, and especially the ones who declared having secret agendas closer. Something like that. There was probably a proverb.

* * *

It was hard not to notice little details about someone when you’re keeping a close eye on them. Such as the way their handwriting slanted, or their focused frown when reading that looked oddly cute in certain angles, or their patent look of faint amusement, or the small differences between their different kinds of laugh - some were obviously performative, but some were genuine.

Little things.

Little things that weren’t supposed to add up to him being ridiculously charmed.

“How is your secret agenda going?” He asked suspiciously one day.

Bertrand considered. “Beatrice thinks I’m being very patient,” he answered carefully.

Frank narrowed his eyes. “ _Beatrice_ is involved?” This never meant anything good. _Never._

Bertrand shrugged. “She likes to be involved in plans,” he said, as if it was an explanation, and in some way it was, it just didn’t explain anything he wanted to know.

“And what do _you_ think?” 

Bertrand looked a little surprised that Frank would ask. “Well, I think I’m capable of being patient when it’s needed.”

“So you think it’s needed.”

The faint amusement was there again. “Quite so, I would say, yes. But I don’t mind, I like playing the long game.”

Of _course_ he did. “I know you do,” Frank said drily. He knew, because he’s been spending the past couple of weeks closely observing him and his little mannerisms and preferences.

“Been paying attention to me, Frank?”

“ _Very_ closely,” he said, in hopes of intimidating him into not trying anything, especially not Beatrice designed shenanigans.

“Noted,” Bertrand said wryly, his lips pulling up.

Very nice lips. They’re getting a little distracting, really. But not distracting enough to stop him from uncovering this secret agenda.

He _would_ uncover it.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](https://beatricebidelaire.tumblr.com)


End file.
